


Always There Beside Me

by SassyStarboard



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Awkward Romance, Derek Hale & Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Derek Hale Has a Crush on Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Mentioned Allison Argent, Mentioned Lydia Martin, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Multilingual Derek Hale, Mutual Pining, School Dances, Stiles Stilinski Has a Crush on Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyStarboard/pseuds/SassyStarboard
Summary: Stiles is depressed because he couldn’t get a date to the Winter Dance. Derek doesn’t understand why Stiles didn’t ask him.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 460





	Always There Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> Derek is the lacrosse captain, they’re all the same age, they’ve all been friends for a really long time, and no one’s a werewolf. Also, this was originally a drabble under 1k and I accidentally made it long as hell. Whoops. Also I adore comments, please let me know if you like it. Enjoy!!!

Lacrosse practice was grueling in the middle of February. Knowing you could go play video games with your best friends afterwards made practicing in torrential rain a little easier to handle. Today they went to Scott’s, because Stiles’ room was currently a hurricane and Derek’s annoying sisters had conquered his house for the day. That, and Scott had a better X-Box. 

Stiles’ Jeep was already parked in the driveway when Derek arrived, and Derek had just barely knocked on the door before it swung open to reveal Scott’s wide, cheerful smile shining out at him. After so many years of friendship with Scott, it was easy to appreciate his enthusiasm. The three of them hung out constantly and Scott still lit up every time he saw them.

Scott beamed. “Dude, my mom ordered pizza.”

Derek grinned back, letting Scott pull him into the house and waving to Mrs. McCall as he followed Scott into the living room, the TV paused in the middle of a _Call of Duty_ mission. There were two plates already next to the open pizza box resting on the coffee table. The couch had been pushed back so the boys could sit on the floor and avoid getting cheese stains on the furniture—something that was usually Stiles’ fault because he ate like a starving toddler. But the room was suspiciously empty. No Stiles in sight. 

Derek frowned as he sat down against the back of the couch. Scott sat down next to him, handing Derek a third plate before grabbing himself another napkin.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek took the plate and set it down on the coffee table. “I saw his car, I thought I got here after him.”

“Um, upstairs.” Scott answered carefully. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“He’s...he might be sort of...wallowing. In the guest room.” Scott admitted. “Don’t tell him I told you, though. He’s not doing too hot.”

“Is he okay?” Derek asked quickly. Scott tried to cover his cringe with a shrug.

“He was fine until Lydia texted him back. Now he’s pouting again.”

“Why?” Derek slouched against the couch, trying to project a casual level of interest. _Lydia_ . _Of course._

Stiles had been pining after Lydia Martin for years, desperately chasing her like a lost puppy. He’d spoken maybe two sentences to her in his entire life and he was in love with her. Yet in twelve years of friendship, Stiles had never looked at Derek the way he looked at Lydia Martin.The worst part was that one of these days Lydia was going to get her head out of her ass and say yes because Stiles was amazingly sweet and clever and insanely fun to be around and when that happened...well, _before_ that happened, Derek needed to grow a fucking pair because if _Lydia Martin_ said yes then Derek would lose his chance forever. Derek couldn’t compete with a ten-year plan. Not when the ten-year plan was Lydia Martin.

Derek tensed, waiting for it. Scott pursed his lips, then sighed.

“He asked Lydia, Isaac, Danny, Lydia again, and Danielle to go to the Sweethearts Dance with him and they all said no.”

Derek blinked, floored. “He...Stiles asked five different people to go with him?” _And they all said no?_

“Four. Lydia twice. Maybe three times now that I‘m thinking about it.” Scott considered, reaching over him to grab another slice of pizza. Then he saw Derek’s expression. “Dude, it’s _our_ pizza. It’s not just yours. Don’t hate.”

“No, I’m not—they all said no?” Derek pushed. “That doesn’t...why would they say no?”

“I don’t know, man. It really sucks, though. Stiles is great. I’d take him, but I’m already going with Allison.” Scott reasoned, taking a bite of his pizza slice. “And you’re going with Kate so—“

“What?” Derek cut him off. “No. No, I’m not. Is that why he didn’t—wait, people think I’m going with Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“Kate _Argent_?”

Scott squinted at him, confused. “Yes?”

“You think I’m taking the girl who _dumped_ me for sending texts to my _female cousin_ then _set fire to my car_ to a _Sweethearts_ Dance?” Derek choked out. “Who the hell told you that?”

“Kate. She told everyone she was going with you.” Scott said slowly. “Like, really loudly. Multiple times.”

“Well, I’m not.” Derek snapped. “She blew up my Impala. I’d rather fuck on the floor of a gas station bathroom.”

“ _Thank you_ !” Scott gave a groan on relief, flopping back against the couch. “That’s what I freaking told him! I mean, not that exactly, obviously, but—okay, I’d never say this about any other girl, I swear, because it’s _so_ not cool, but Kate is _literally_ crazy. And I mean, yeah, you’re super into your Camaro now, but I know you loved your old car. Also, you know, arson.”

Derek paused, processing. “Told who?”

“Stiles!” Scott said, exasperated. “After I told him I couldn’t go with him cause I was taking Alli, I told him to ask you but he said people said you were going with Kate so I was like _no_ , cause that would be insane, but then he was like _yeah he is_ , so I was like—”

“Stiles was going to ask me?” Derek asked hoarsely. Scott apparently didn’t understand the true reason behind Derek’s distress—which was both great and terrible, because Derek had been so sure about how obvious he was being—and kept going.

“Well, _yeah_. I spent like three hours trying to hype him up for it because—oh, uh, cause you guys are like friends and stuff? I mean, we’re friends so he thought maybe you’d think it was weird—because you’re friends. Obviously. But I guess he just...he really didn’t say anything? I thought he had that whole plan going on.”

“Well, he didn’t—” Derek stopped, pursing his lips. Scott watched him intently. Derek sighed, frustrated, and stood up from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

Scott gave him an odd look, but nodded. Derek felt Scott’s eyes on him as he left the living room, walking up the stairs and turning down the hall to see the closed door of the guest room. Derek slowly opened the door, worried about what he might see. It was Stiles, after all. Heartbroken Stiles was inconsolably dramatic.

Derek opened the door to darkness, the sliver of light from the hall barely enough to illuminate a Stiles-sized lump huddled under the blankets. Derek gave a small sigh. Honestly, it could have been worse. There was a square of light coming from the middle of the blanket, which meant that Stiles was on his phone and probably semi-coherent. Derek inched forward, praying Stiles was on Tumblr and not stalking anyone's Instagram.

Cautiously, Derek approached the bed and put a hand on the mass of Blanket Stiles, hopefully touching a shoulder and not cutting off the boy’s air supply. In response, Stiles gave an undignified squeak and jolted violently, nearly kicking Derek in the chest as he shrank back. The form under the blankets curled into a slightly smaller lump reminiscent of the fetal position.

“ _God damn it, Scotty._ ” Stiles voice choked out, small and scratchy. “ _Go back downstairs and let me suffer, would you?_ ”

“Stiles, it’s me.” Derek offered. “Scott said you were up here, I just didn’t think...are you okay?”

At the sound of Derek’s voice, the lump froze in terror. As much as any lump could, anyway. Derek awkwardly pulled his hand away. After a minute or so of tense silence, Derek heard Stiles’ cough sharply, clearing his throat.

“ _Can you just—can you just like, gimme a minute? And I’ll be right down?_ ”

Derek hesitated, unsure of what to do. He wanted to do _something_ . He wanted to see Stiles’ face, he wanted to make Stiles feel better, he wanted to tell Stiles he wasn’t going with Kate and never had been. He also wanted to know why Stiles had asked fucking _Danielle from homeroom_ instead of him but he didn’t say that. If Derek had actually gotten a grip and asked Stiles himself, they wouldn’t be having this problem. They also wouldn’t be having this problem if Kate wasn’t such a bitch, but Derek absolutely didn’t want to think about her right now. She’d ruined too many things for him and—even though it was utterly mind-blowing how Kate was cousins with the pure ray of sunshine that was Allison—Derek wasn’t going to let her ruin this.

If he didn’t ruin it himself.

“Will you at least look at me?” Derek guessed at where Stiles’ head was, putting his hand back on the lump. The lump shuddered, giving a forced laugh.

“ _No way, buddy_ .” Stiles bit out, the watery quality of his tone taking away most of the edge. “ _You do not want to come face-to-face with the Beacon Hills Snot Monster_.”

“You’re not—” Derek tried valiantly not to laugh, “—Jesus Christ. You’re not a _snot monster_ , Stiles. Just take off the fucking blanket so I know you’re not suffocating under there.”

Stiles hesitated for far longer than Derek would have liked but eventually sat up, reluctantly pulling the blanket away from his face to sulk at Derek. Stiles watched Derek’s face, morbidly pleased when Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. Stiles’ hair was wild, matted from being under the comforter; his eyes were red and tired and shining while his nose was scratched and wet. He gave Derek a grim, thin smile.

“Told you.” Stiles snuffled miserably, the blanket a huddled mass around his shoulders, swallowing everything but his head. Derek’s eyes just caught Stiles’ phone laying on the mattress—opened up to an old Facebook post that was definitely from their middle school class trip and _really, Stiles, come on_ —before Stiles grabbed it and turned the screen off, shoving the phone into the blankets. Derek really wanted to scold him for it but he held his tongue, hoping Stiles wouldn’t retreat back into his cocoon before he got a chance to talk to him.

“Scott told me about your quest for romance.” Derek said instead. Stiles flopped down on his side and groaned. Derek almost sat next to him but thought better of it, settling instead for leaning against the bed frame. Stiles huffed and rolled over to face him, his hand coming out of the cocoon to scrub over his face.

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m just unlovable, cause I asked everyone in my class and no one wanted me. Not even as a pity date.” He laughed bitterly. “The Stilinski tour of failed romance is all sold out. Even though nobody bought tickets and the ride broke down and the.....fuck, this metaphor is going off the rails.”

Derek stared at him. Stiles sighed. “What?”

“You, um...your favorite Harry Potter movie is _The Goblet of Fire_ , right?” He asked. Stiles looked at him blankly.

“Yeah but I’m too depressed to watch dragons right now.”

“You know how Harry and Ron are running around trying to find girls to take to the Yule Ball? And by the time Ron realizes he should have asked Hermione she already has a date? How it just didn’t even occur to him that Hermione might want to go with him? Even though they’re best friends?”

“Yeah, cause he’s dumb.” Stiles said. “But Harry and Ron did eventually get dates, so thanks for reminding me that even fictional wizards have more game than I do.”

Derek pursed his lips. “Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I would’ve said yes.” Derek said slowly. “If you had asked me, I would have said yes. Why didn’t you?”

Stiles blinked. “I—well, I didn’t—um, are you upset? I mean, obviously Kate was lying cause she’s a huge bitch but she scares me and I just kind of assumed you already had a real date cause you’re, you know, _you_ , and I didn’t super want to talk about whoever you were going with cause I just didn’t want it to be...weird.” He finished awkwardly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t.” Derek said. “I mean, I don’t have a date. I was hoping...it wouldn’t have felt weird. Would it have felt weird to you? Is that why—”

“No, it wouldn’t have.” Stiles defended. “It’s not that, I didn’t mean it like that. I-I just...” He sighed.

“It’s not you, it’s me?” Derek offered flatly, inwardly bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. Not even the lacrosse captain could compete with Lydia Martin.

“No, no, it’s cause...because I didn’t...” Stiles’s teeth were wearing into his lip as he grew more upset. Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together and he sat down on the bed. Stiles edged away, but sat up and leaned against the headboard, relaxing his blanket shroud enough for Derek to see his neck. It was a start. Derek sighed.

“Stiles, it’s okay. You don’t have to take me. I just wanted to know.”

“But Derek, I didn’t mean...it’s not what it…oh my god.” The blanket was moving and rustling where Stiles’ hands were twisting nervously into the fabric. Derek watched him carefully.

“Stiles?” Derek looked at Stiles intently, completely focused on him, concerned. Stiles broke.

“Dammit—okay, look, when you ask out the guy you’ve had a crush on for your entire life, you don’t want your first date with him to be a shitty school dance.” Stiles burst out. “Okay? That’s...that’s why.”

Derek stared at him with wide eyes, floored. Stiles...no, Stiles wasn't talking about him. Stiles wasn't talking about asking him out. Stiles didn’t have a crush on him. Stiles had a crush on Lydia Martin. Stiles had a ten-year plan—a _Lydia Martin_ ten-year plan that didn’t involve Derek in any way whatsoever, so why was Stiles suddenly...when had...when had the guy Derek was in love with started to feel like _that_ ? And for _him_ ? Derek had known Stiles was bi, sure, but he’d never thought that Stiles might want _him_. It was unthinkable.

Now it was quiet; Derek at a loss for words, Stiles staring purposefully at his suddenly very interesting comforter.

“You have a crush on me?” Derek said quietly. Horrifically, Stiles misinterpreted his tone completely and gave a short, dry laugh.

“I’ve had a crush on you since fifth grade, thanks for noticing.” He managed, looking absolutely crushed. His eyes grew watery again, his hands gripping the comforter like a life-line.

“Really?”

“Yeah. uh huh. And-And for what it’s worth, Derek, I’m really sorry. This is _so_ not how I pictured this going but you’re obviously weirded out so please just go back downstairs and pretend this didn’t happen and then I’ll come down and we can all play video games with Scott and just forget about it, because I can’t—I just want to—can you—“

Derek put his hand on Stiles’ knee—his legs had swung over the side of the mattress and had been bouncing and twitching since the beginning of his confession. Stiles stopped and looked up, blinking furiously as he tried to stop the tears in his eyes from spilling over. _This is why you don’t tell people your secrets, Stiles. It ruins things. This is why you need to stop opening your stupid mouth. He never liked you, you ruined everything, he’s never going to look at without pity, he’s never—_

“Stiles?”

Stiles sniffed. “Uh huh? What’s up, dude?” He cleared his throat sharply. 

“Stiles, I wouldn’t have tried to ask you to the dance if I didn’t like you too.” Derek said gently. 

Stiles blinked. It was a moment before he spoke again. “...you were trying to ask me to the dance?”

“Yes. That’s generally what people do when they have a crush on someone.” Derek said.

“A crush?” Stiles said softly. “You—you’re not just saying that or anything? I thought you were trying to distract me from my misery with dragons. You really—you have a crush on me?”

“It's a little more than a crush, Stiles.” Derek admitted. Stiles’ shock was finally starting to wear off and Derek could see the gears turning in his head as everything fell into place.

“You...you like...I like you too.” Stiles said softly. He gave an awkward, relieved laugh, like he could finally breathe. “Yeah, I like you too. So that’s kinda cool, right? I like you, you like me?”

“I do, but—“ Derek hesitated before he asked, worried Stiles would change his mind about him if he remembered what he’d be leaving behind. “—what happened to your plan?”

“Plan?” Stiles asked hoarsely. His eyes went wide, like he thought Derek was about to take everything away from him. Reluctantly, Derek went on.

“Lydia.” He said stiffly. “Your ten-year plan. _The_ plan. I thought—“

Stiles sagged forward with relief. “Dude, you still remember that? God, I used to be so creepy.”

“But aren’t you in love with—“

“With you, dumbass.” Stiles promised. “I don’t like Lydia like that, not...not the way I like you. The real way. I don’t think I ever really did. Lydia was mostly me obsessing over trying to be straight, you know? If ten olds even know how to do that. Maybe they don’t. Cause she’s just like, objectively perfect. She’s _the_ girl. But that creepy ass plan went away in fifth grade, Derek. It’s been you ever since.”

Derek felt the nervous pressure that had been tightening in his chest fall away like cut rope as Stiles’ face rose into a nervous smile. Suddenly Stiles’ eyes went wide. “Oh man. Oh, I just told you I love you for the first time by calling you a dumbass.” He groaned.

Derek laughed, flooded with relief. _Stiles_. “I would have expected nothing less.” 

They sat on the bed together, ecstatically overwhelmed. Then, experimentally, Stiles reached forward and put his hand over Derek’s, curling his fingers around his. Stiles’ tongue ran over his teeth as his eyes darted to Derek’s mouth, asking a silent question. Derek nodded slightly and Stiles leaned forward, pressing his lips to Derek’s in a soft kiss. It was gentle and sweet, and Derek could definitely taste a little bit of snot but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything because Derek was finally kissing Stiles. No, _Stiles_ was kissing _him_ because _Stiles_ was the one who had initiated the kiss and Derek was the one grinning against Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles whined when Derek pulled back, both of them gasping for air. “It’s always been you, Der.”

“Always.” Derek echoed softly, stunned. Stiles snorted.

“Don’t go _Fault in Our Stars_ on me now, man. You’re already insanely hot, I don’t want to have to add _reads sappy teen romances_ to the _Reasons Why Derek is Cute_ list.”

Derek snapped out of his daze and smirked. “You have a list?”

“It’s a—I don’t—no, shut up.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s face, kissing him again and pulling him even closer than before, fiercely pressing himself against Derek and finally emerging completely from the blankets. Derek moved his hands to Stiles’ hips, grinning as he pulled the other boy into his lap. Stiles hands twisted into Derek’s shirt as their kiss deepened.

It ended abruptly when they nearly fell off the bed. Derek immediately tightened his grip on Stiles and yanked him back onto the mattress, the two of them falling back onto the bed. They could barely sit back up, laughing and smiling.

Predictably, Stiles started talking again as soon as they recovered. He bit his lip, grinning as he leaned into Derek. Derek gave him a soft smile.

“The, um, the dance isn’t until Saturday.” Stiles said, his forehead pressed against Derek’s shoulder. “We-we could go on a date. Before then. Tomorrow?”

“It won’t be at Scott’s house, will it?” Derek asked lightly. Stiles snorted and moved back, grinning at him.

“What, afraid I’ll crush you with my mad _Call of Duty_ skills?”

“What skills?” Derek teased. Stiles scoffed indignantly, feigning offense with a hand to his chest.

“Uh, more skills than you, Mister Shoots-Like-A-Storm-Trooper.” He countered. Derek soured.

“It’s not my fault the buttons are so small.” He grumbled. Stiles simpered and patted Derek’s cheek.

“There’s only so many failures you can blame on sausage fingers, Der-Bear.”

“I don’t have sausage fingers.”

“Whatever you say, Sourwolf.” Stiles said lightly, beaming. Derek fought hard not to look embarrassingly pleased at the realization that Stiles had been calling him silly nicknames like that for years and _they’d actually meant something_. He covered it quickly with a scowl, pretending to be annoyed.

“If you insist on calling me that, you’re getting an equally atrocious nickname.” He managed, flustered. Stiles smirked.

“What about Sexy Pants?” He suggested. 

“What?”

“Angel Cheeks. Honey Cakes. Sun and Stars. Moon of My Life. _Moja suka._ ”

“What the hell was that last one?”

“ _My bitch_.” Stiles attempted a sultry wink. “It’s Polish. I’m offering suggestions.” 

Derek‘s nose crinkled with distaste. “I wouldn’t call you that in English, let alone in Polish. And your Polish is terrible, I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

“It does and you’re just jealous I can speak a whole other language.”

“I know for a fact that the only Polish words you know are curse words and I promise you my Spanish is better than your Polish.”

“Is it though? Is it really?”

“ _Tienes los ojos como una zorra de extravagante_.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Okay, no clue what that meant, but I’m pretty sure it was way more romantic than _my bitch_.”

Derek paused before he answered, embarrassed. “It was supposed to be, but I think I might’ve said _you have eyes like an eccentric slut_.”

Stiles immediately burst out laughing, his response wheezed out in between his laughter. “Um, thank you?”

Derek’s brows furrowed. “I was trying to say _fox_.”

“I have eyes like an eccentric fox?”

“I wasn’t trying to say _eccentric_ either.” Derek admitted sullenly. Stiles gave a dramatic sigh.

“Aww, it’s okay baby.”

“Shut up. I don’t have a lot of people to practice with.”

“You can practice with me.” Stiles fluttered his eyelashes. “We can come up with a reward system.”

Derek gave a hum of interest. “What kind of reward system?”

“How about I—”

_“Ugh, gross.”_

Startled, they turned. Scott was standing in the doorway with a disgusted look on his face. Stiles’ face burned red immediately and he looked down at the blankets, his hands fidgeting restlessly. Derek scowled, reaching over to squeeze Stiles’ hand as he glared at Scott.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing? Lurk much?” Stiles forced out. It came out as a whine, his words far less threatening than he’d intended if his immediate flinch was anything to go by. Scott gave them a pointed look, pretending to be exasperated.

“I _was_ waiting for you guys to come back downstairs but I got bored! It’s not my fault you were too busy being mushy to notice. I’ve been standing here for like, a really long time.”

Derek and Stiles shared a look. Scott frowned slightly. “What?”

“You’re right, Scott. We’re being unfair.” Stiles said dryly. “I’ve never once heard you speak to Allison. I’ve never walked in on you guys making out. You've never written poetry about her dimples. You’ve never told me a single solitary detail about the first time you and Allison figured out how to use a—“

“Dude!” Scott hissed. “My mom’s downstairs!”

Derek gave a short laugh. Stiles turned to him immediately, beaming with pride. Scott gave an exaggerated noise of disgust at their expressions. Stiles turned on him, suddenly suspicious.

“You sent him upstairs, didn’t you?”

“And I regret everything.” Scott lied. “Can we finish our game now?”

“I’m taking the blanket with me.” Stiles countered, pulling himself to his feet and wrapping it around his shoulders like a regal cape. Scott made a face.

“Good. It probably has your germs all over it.” Scott shoved past him and ran down the stairs. Stiles theatrically tossed his blanket cape over his shoulder, planning to chase after Scott, but tripped on the edge of it and tumbled forward. Derek yanked him back, barely stopping Stiles from crashing down the stairs.

“Maybe leave the blanket up here.” Derek suggested. Stiles was clinging to him like a koala.

“Cool, yeah, smart. Good choice. Good call.”

They came back downstairs to find that Scott switched over to the Wii to play _Mario Kart_ , probably wanting something a little more light hearted after Stiles’ infamous afternoon of misery. Stiles’ words. Derek’s indignant protests. Scott’s fake vomiting. 

Scott regretted switching to _Mario Kart_ when Stiles bribed Derek into teaming up with him and the two conspired to push Scott’s car off the road every chance they got. _Cheaters_ . They claimed it was Scott’s own fault, of course. _Rainbow Road is a cruel mistress, Scotty. What can you do?_ God, they were gonna be even worse than Scott and Allison, weren’t they?

Scott looked over at his best friends—at where Stiles had sprawled across Derek in an attempt to block the other boy’s view of the television despite the threats of vengeance he was receiving for it. Stiles beat Derek by a split second and pulled him in for a victory kiss, sappy and smiley and totally disgusting.

Oh man, karma was the worst.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I do have that bit where Stiles speaks Polish (sorta) and Derek speaks Spanish, but the translation is supposed to be weird because neither of them are good at it. According to Google Translate, Stiles’ words are right, but I intentionally made Derek’s weird. I think. I speak neither of those languages, so hopefully my incorrect translations are correct XD. Hope you liked it!


End file.
